Don’t miss this guest post adoption story; Tammy’s story is full of daily challenges and a very sad chapter, but it’s a beautiful story nonetheless. Be sure to visit Tammy’s blog, too: The Durable Mom.

I missed my daughter’s First Communion last spring. Fifteen minutes before we need to leave for church, our youngest son fell down the stairs. The bump on his head quickly grew to the size of a golf ball. Off to the emergency room I went. Nothing unusual in that, except this was my third ER visit that month. Seven kids, six pets, five kids with FAS, four kids with ADHD, three kids with RAD, two parents, and one bathroom…Welcome to our world.

When I married Dan in 1986, we were eager to start a family. Conceiving proved to be difficult, but we were blessed with our daughter, Hannah, in 1991. She was such a happy, healthy baby; we could not wait to have another.

When it seemed having another child was not in God’s plan, I decided to go to law school. My husband often joked how he knew I would be a wonderful lawyer because I loved to argue so much. So in 1995, our little family moved to another state so I could attend school.

Fast forward three years. It was three weeks before graduation. I remember sitting in my class, lost in thought. Instead of participating in the heated discussion over mergers and acquisitions, I was contemplating how I was going to tell my husband that I not only wanted to decline the job I had accepted, but that I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom and adopt a child.

This idea had been brewing for almost a week. I woke up one morning with this notion in my head and could not shake it! In the course of a week, the following things were put in my path: meeting a woman who had adopted, seeing an ad in the newspaper for adoptive families, and our childcare provider giving notice. I could not ignore God’s signs.

On my way home from class that day, I called my husband. I could not wait another minute to tell him. In a matter of 20 seconds, I told him: I don’t want to take the job, I have had little signs popping up to tell me this was right, I want to stay at home with Hannah, and I want to adopt.

Silence.

“Hello?!” I looked at the phone to make sure I still had a connection.

“Let’s do it,” was all he said.

The next morning, I began the task of redacting my acceptance of the job offer and setting up a time to meet with an adoption agency.

The process went much faster than expected. We decided to go through the Minnesota Waiting Children’s Program. This program serves children who are under state guardianship and legally available for adoption.

In six short months, we were having home visits with an 18 month-old toddler, Tavaris, who was diagnosed with Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder. I threw myself into learning everything I could about FASD. His adoption was finalized in 1999.

Things were going along so well that, one year later, we found ourselves asking: “Why not do this again?”

We returned to our adoption agency in 1999. We wanted to parent another child with FASD. Our Home Study was updated and into the prospective pool we jumped. When our adoption worker called to say she had found a match, she had hesitation in her voice.

“I have found a perfect match for you guys… times three.”

She found a sibling group of three girls, ages 6, 3, and 2. Their lives had been filled with neglect and abuse, the extent of which was unspeakable. They had all been prenatally exposed to drugs and alcohol, but no formal diagnoses.

We considered the decision for all of 2 hours. Friends told us going from one child to two is tough, but going from two children to three is easy. I figured the same rational would apply when going from two to five! Count us in!

The adoptions of Alison, Mary Margaret, and Julia Anne were finalized in 2000. Our family life became a whirlwind of activity, sometimes verging on chaotic. Initially, the amount of appointments and evaluations was overwhelming. All three girls fell somewhere on the Fetal Alcohol Spectrum. All three were moderate-to-low functioning. The shocker: Reactive Attachment Disorder, times three.

We knew nothing about Reactive Attachment Disorder (RAD). We had not been introduced to this term in our adoption workshops. I sought out everything I could find on the internet regarding this disorder. I was mortified. The stories were chilling. What did we get ourselves into? But… forewarned is forearmed. I was determined to not become one of those stories. Failing these kids was not an option.

The next few years were a blur to me. I didn’t have time to think most days… I just did. Life became “two steps forward, ten steps back.” On days that I could not do it, I believe God stepped in and did it for me.

Things came to a sketching halt in 2003. What I thought was food poisoning, lingering on for two weeks, turned out to be a pregnancy. We were overjoyed but worried how this would affect the children, who needed my attention so much. I gave birth to Clare in 2003.

In 2004, eleven months after Clare’s birth, we received a call from the adoption agency. The biological mom of the girls had given birth to a baby boy. He had been prenatally exposed to drugs and alcohol. The mother wanted her son to be placed with his sisters. How could we say no?

We finalized John’s adoption six months later.

Our adoption story is not without heartbreak. In 2009, our daughter Julia was placed with another family. Despite all our good intentions and hard work, her attachment issues were just too severe. Her mental health professionals’ recommendation: she needed to be placed with a family where she would be the only child. We agonized over the decision. We did not want to fail Julia. However, we knew that by not giving her this opportunity, our pride might have done just that.

We feel truly blessed by our children. They have caused us to grow and become strong in ways we never thought possible. Our life may be summed up in 12 words:

“With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”
Matthew 19:26.

(** Do you have an inspiring adoption story to share? If so, please contact me!!)

(Note: post may contain affiliate links. See disclosure page for details.)

(Thank you to Laura for today’s guest post! Visit her blog to follow along with her family’s story: Living and Learning in Kentucky)

Why We Became Foster Parents
By Laura Witten

I have always had a heart for children, and as my childhood dreams came true, there was one dream that remained elusive – to have more than one child of my own. After several years of marriage, we had our son, who is now six. We had been unsuccessful in conceiving again, had tried all the easy fixes, and are unwilling to go through more severe measures when there are so many children out there who need good homes. I mourned over not having more of my own for a while, but life went on. Maybe God has something other than more biological children in mind for us – but it was just a fleeting thought at that time because I had so much else going on. My marriage was in trouble, I quit my job, and had no idea what was in store for me. I tried to renew my focus in life and get back where God wanted me.

During my personal crisis, I accidentally began looking at nearby foster care agencies. I told myself it was crazy, stopped, prayed, and went back to it. I eventually told my husband, and to my surprise he agreed to find out more.

We weren’t ready to jump into adoption, so decided to help children out in a temporary fashion for a while. We had the room, I had the time to devote to them, and my husband was up for the adventure. My son was 5 when we started, and we have made him a part of the decision process from the beginning. He was looking forward to playmates, but understood the deeper purpose for giving these children a temporary home while the parents got their act together.

We elected to go with the State instead of private agencies because they were the most responsive to my queries, and in my research I discovered that the private agencies pull from the same group of kids but typically get the more troubled ones. I found out that foster parenting classes were beginning in early January 2010, and told my husband that I thought this is where God was leading, and he agreed to the time commitment to make it happen. The more classes we took, the more I wanted to help out these kids and knew this was the direction our lives should go. We went ahead and did concurrent planning, in case we are led towards adoption in the future, but were listed as foster parents, not foster-to-adopt.

During the winter months we attended class, I began doctor’s visits again to figure out why I couldn’t conceive. An ultrasound confirmed I have PCOS, and another ultrasound showed possible cancer in my thyroid. I had surgery (February 2010) to remove over half of my thyroid; it was biopsied and NOT cancer, thank God. I then got on a different pill to shrink the ovarian cysts, which gave me severe stomach cramps, so that was not an option for me.  Birth control was the only other option to control the PCOS symptoms.

We completed foster parenting classes, physicals and the mountain of paperwork that goes with it all, and passed the home visit. I was very excited, as was our son. I think my husband was still leery, but trusted that I knew what I was getting us into.

About 3 months after we were officially approved, we got our first placement – a two-year-old boy and seven-year-old girl. It was a challenge, but so rewarding. They were with us over six months. Three months to the day after they left, we got a second sibling group. These sweethearts were challenging in a different way, but worth it. At this time, they have been gone just a few weeks, and I’m jumping at every phone call, wondering if it is the DCBS… but it’s not.

The journey is ongoing. I’m still wrestling with whether adoption is the right route, and if so, should it be a baby or an older child. I am trusting that God will make it clear to all of us when the time comes.

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(Do you have an inspiring adoption story to share? If so, please contact me!!)

(Note: post may contain affiliate links. See disclosure page for details.)

When a sweet young couple we know decided to answer the call to become foster parents, we were delighted! Of course I asked to share their story, and they happily agreed. I hope you’ll visit Eden’s wonderful (and relatively new) blog, Standing on His Promise, to read more about their journey as foster parents!

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This past summer and fall, my husband and I started to really wrestle with an unsettled feeling within us. As we prayed and really dug into Scripture, we struggled to see our lives as a real reflection of Christ. We were in a comfortable place in many ways, but the Lord would not quiet the stirring within each of us to take another step of faith. One evening as I prayed, I began to feel led to the idea of foster care or adoption. Not wanting to lead the charge myself, I prayed that the Lord would independently lead my husband to the same thought.

I never said a word to him and just continued to pray for clarity. About a week later, we were riding in the car when my husband said, out of the blue, “I’ve been really thinking about two things lately – foster care or adoption.”

Needless to say, we have felt 100% convinced since that day that this is something the Lord has led us to do. We began praying with much anticipation for the children who the Lord will entrust to us in the coming years.

You might wonder why on earth we would decide to do this, and you wouldn’t be the first. Let me start with some of the reasons we are NOT doing this. We are not doing this to fill any void in our own lives. We’re certainly not doing this so that we will get a pat on the back one day from anyone or so that people will say of us, “They’re such good people!” We’re also not doing this because we think that there are kids who need us to rescue them from evil parents.

We really feel strongly that the Lord has led us to this decision, but more important than feelings or perceptions is the mandate in Scripture. James 1:27 says, “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.” The story of the Bible is one of sacrifice and redemption, and as Christians we are to proclaim that story in every facet of our lives. Seeking to be obedient to that command, we are excited to walk with the Lord and rely on Him daily, striving to show these children the love of Christ, which is certainly unconditional but grounded in discipline. At the same time, we want to pray for their parents’ redemption and restoration, lovingly speaking the truth of the gospel into their lives as often as we get the chance, and expecting the Lord to be faithful to His promise in Isaiah 55:11 that His Word will accomplish His purposes.

You may be thinking that this all sounds great… until reality sets in. We are keenly aware that  this is going to be difficult (to say the least). We don’t have any false hope that we are fully prepared or that this road is going to be easy. We rest in the fact that 2 Timothy 3:16-17 promises us, “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.” We are simply being obedient to Christ, and we are expecting Him to do the work of equipping us and walking with us every step of the way.

For whatever short time these kids reside in our home, they will be as if adopted into our family.

At its very core, the gospel of Jesus Christ is a story of adoption. The story began in Genesis, when God’s people first turned away from our Heavenly Father in favor of our own desires. That story continued through the entire Old Testament, and I know we can all relate as we reject God in favor of ourselves and our ideas daily. In order to restore our relationship with God, a sacrifice was required as well as a mediator to speak on our behalf. Then God sent His son, Jesus Christ, as a sacrifice on our behalf – that through Him as our mediator, we could stand blameless before God, adopted as children of God and co-heirs of Christ.

“For those who are led by the Spirit of God are the children of God… the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, ‘Abba, Father.’ The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory. ” Romans 8:14-17

This scripture has become more and more meaningful to us as we have walked the path of foster parenting over the past couple of months. Since the beginning of March, we have had three children come to be a part of our family at different times. First was Zizi, a spunky nine-month-old who was instantly attached and instantly a special part of our lives. She went home after two and a half weeks to her dad in Chicago. Then came Miss M, a happy two-month-old who we didn’t bond with as quickly, but who loved to snuggle (so that bond came soon enough!). She went home after three and a half weeks (a little premature if you ask us, but nobody did, and that’s ok!). Now we have Emmy, a four-month-old who has been in foster care since the day she was born. Emmy is likely to be a more permanent fixture in our lives, but we have had a more difficult time bonding with her than with either of the other two (go figure!). However, the bond is getting stronger every day, and the Lord continues to be faithful to our prayers.

It would be impossible for me to capture the roller-coaster of emotions and experiences my husband and I have had over the past few months, but I can say this with certainty – We have never in our lives experienced the Lord the way we have experienced Him through foster care.

The reality check is that daily life as a foster parent is no more glamorous or fulfilling than the daily life you may presently be living. We clean spit-up, we mix bottles, we clean bottles, we change diapers, and so on and so forth, but the daily experience of laying ourselves at the feet of Jesus and allowing Him to use us to care for these children whom He loves so deeply and extend grace and mercy to their mothers whom He loves just as deeply is an experience like none other. There is nothing like being at the very center of Christ’s work of redeeming lives in our community. We love Zizi, Mary, and Emmy so deeply, and our hearts break when we see them go, but we love Jesus Christ more, and we want to love Him with wild abandon, putting our hearts on the line in order to bring glory to His name and see lives radically changed!

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Do you have a positive adoption story of your own to share? If so, contact me!

(Thank you to Kara for sharing her family’s adoption story today!
Follow along with Kara and family at her blog.)

Climb on board for our adventure to adoption. The road traveled is a little long, rambles a bit, and takes twists and turns in directions we never realized were there, but here we are with a new little one who shares our name. This journey truly began about 15 years before we became foster parents when I was a teacher with the public school system in the Dallas area. I fell in love with a boy everyone else thought to be unlovable. When I say “boy,” I am referring to his age, not his size. He probably weighed more than 200 pounds, was a full head taller than me and and his intelligence was barely on the charts. He had been dumped in a garbage dump and left for dead at birth. Death would have been easier for him. Since that time he ventured in and out of foster homes as well as in and out of his biological family’s homes (yes, someone eventually claimed him). During this time he acquired cigarette burns all over his body and many deep scars. He had more issues and disabilities than anyone could count, but his heart simply cried out to me. He could barely even read or write and yet he was in the 5th grade for the third time. At this time I was newly married and we had no children. Having him was not a possibility, and in the eyes of the state he had a family.

I began years of begging, inquiring, talking and praying for my husband to agree for us to become foster parents. My husband simply wasn’t ready, but he didn’t know the power of a praying wife! In the meantime we continued through the adventure called life having three biological children and a long list of to-do’s and did-that’s. The desire never left! My husband still wasn’t ready and his reasons were valid… for the most part… until you truly hear the call and realize that God sometimes calls the tired, those who are busy and have many “things” to take care of, those who are NOT equipped or financially secure. It really isn’t about us… it’s about the children. Back to the reasons: He wasn’t ready because he wanted us to “worry about our OWN children.” This is a typical response. He also didn’t want to “give them back.” Another typical response. What about the time, and what would this do to our OWN? One more response I’ve heard a million times. Soapbox warning!!! Let me tell you… these precious foster children ARE OUR OWN as long as the state says so and my husband will be the first one to preach this. The moment they are placed in my arms they are MINE! Do we mourn when they leave? Absolutely! There are more tears than you can imagine, but there is more prayer than we have ever done as well (and I thought we prayed a lot before). Our family comes together to go through this heartache. We share our memories and our losses, we pray for the precious one and we pray for the family they are now with. This has taught my kids more than I can express. Do we often feel we would be a better family for them? Absolutely, but that is arrogance on our part and God has not called us to judge or to choose. Nor does God feel we are necessarily “better.” He doesn’t score people like that. We are all equal. This humbles us quickly. It is NOT for us to decide.

What has this done for our biological kids?

When interviewed by the President of Buckner our oldest said being a foster family has made our family closer, we know how to work as a team for a goal that is bigger than ourselves, we know how to give out of our abundance… this is our missionary work from home.

How I wish we had done this a LONG time ago, when our children were even younger. Currently they are 14, 11 and 7. It is beyond a blessing and beyond a lesson for our kids. This is daily sacrifice for “…the least of these…” Matthew 25:40. If you are considering fostering/adopting, don’t wait for your kids to “grow up.” It’s just like waiting until you have enough money. Neither will EVER happen. You will NEVER have enough time or money or energy or resources, but if you know Christ, you do serve a BIG GOD who can overcome anything. God DOES NOT call the equipped, he equips the called. We are not a “super” family, we are quite simply ordinary, but called by GOD.

We always said that we would adopt any and every child that became adoptable, knowing full well that this might not happen for a while. Our intention all along was to adopt, but we wanted to foster those who needed short term as well. At the young ages it is VERY difficult for them to be moved from place to place. As in, mind altering… literally! Under three, they will shut down parts of their brain when they do not sense security and seeing new faces constantly does NOT provide security in the developing brain. We never wanted that to happen if we could do something about it. Kylie came to us at a month old. Precious little tiny thing. The fight began when we knew this mother couldn’t possibly care for this child. She wanted to and she loved her in her own sort of way, but she didn’t have the tools or support to be a mother. Now, we had to let CPS do their job. Her caseworker fought hard, while at the same time supporting this young woman and finding her the resources she needed to attempt to live a full, productive life. We did the same. We loved her right along with her child within the boundaries of CPS. It became apparent that CPS would seek termination, but proof in court would have to hold up. Dad was around, but only as an afterthought. CPS believes that a child should go to family if at all possible. I agree very reluctantly, because statistics show that this doesn’t work very often!!! Family eventually did come forward, but a little hesitantly. This began our REAL battle for the child. It was truly NOT in her best interest to go to strangers. This child would not transition well for so many reasons. We had to fight hard including the possibility of hiring an attorney that would cost more than we could imagine. In the end (lots of details are missing here for privacy reasons) and it was a long, tearful few months, the state determined that the child was best left with “her” family, the only one she ever knew: us.

During this time we were given a verse to cling to by a sweet friend. Exodus 14:14 “The Lord will fight for you….you need only to be still…” I didn’t like this verse at all! This was too hard for me because I am a fighter, but I held firm and God proved faithful once again. One year, one month and 12 days later Kylie Rebecca took our name (we did change her name… her first name is a variation of her original one). National Adoption Day brought her permanently into our lives. That card with the verse on it still sits right beside my computer. Kylie now has a home (she was homeless before), a forever home, a Godly home who will love her and support her for who she uniquely is and family who will show her the love of Jesus. She looks different from us and always will, but love does not have to look alike or have a certain color attached to it. Her life matters!

(foster baby’s photo blurred for anonymity)

The rest of the story:
We also have another foster baby who is more than likely headed for adoption as well so we are excited about the possibility of her having a sister seven months younger. This little angel is deaf, has a cleft palate (not a cleft lip) and some muscle issues, but is growing and learning and catching up developmentally. She smiles non-stop and stops traffic everywhere she goes because of her sheer beauty. She doesn’t even look the same as she did five months ago when she entered our lives!

The past year and a half has brought five children into our lives besides our biological children. Three have returned either to mom and dad or to family members. We have been blessed to remain in contact with two out of the three. This is an entirely different story and again one of faith taking us out of our comfort zones and yet right in the arms of our savior.

Has any of this been easy? Absolutely NOT, but I cannot begin to tell you how close I feel God working in our lives. I feel His breath against my skin when I seek Him with my whole heart and I will gladly go through the pain of heartache of letting go of these angels to feel His arms again and again and to know, that I know, that I know HE IS IN CONTROL. These children are WORTH it even if we only hold them for a little time.

Please consider having your heart ache. I promise it will ache more for yet another one and another one and another one to come into your lives… Somewhere there is another child who needs us. Unfortunately, it also means another family is falling apart, but that cry in my mind is my wake up call to get on my knees immediately and begin praying for that child and the family who can’t carry on anymore. I do JUST that. They are worth praying for… all of them.

Kara

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Do you have a positive adoption story of your own to share? If so, contact me!

(This is another guest post from Lamar, who was our daughter Lindsey’s caseworker. Previously, Lamar shared an old family story of adoption, but this is his own story of adopting a sibling group of three little girls from foster care.)

Something Just Wad’n Right…
“I knowed something wad’n right.” That is what the truck driver told the state trooper who initially responded to the trucker’s call over his CB radio and the county DFCS worker who was dispatched to the scene, explaining his decision to stop and become involved when others continued on their way that cold February morning in 1978.

Truckers get paid by the mile. The more miles they can cover in a day, the more money they make. Time was money for this man and his load, so taking the time to get involved was money out of his pocket, not to mention the diesel fuel he burned as his truck sat idling on the side of the road. None of that mattered because the trucker had seen something that would cause any reasonable person to draw the same conclusion that he did, that “something just wad’n right” about a little girl who looked to be about four years old, not dressed warmly enough for the cold, walking alone on the shoulder of a busy highway. The scariest part was that the little girl trudged along rather confidently, apparently feeling no sense of danger, as though she were accustomed to doing this, as though she did it every day.

We remember sensory impressions — sounds, smells, visual images, and tactile sensations — longer and better than we remember names, dates, and facts. The little girl walking alongside the road is now a grown woman with children of her own. The sensory impressions are what she remembers about that morning. What frightened her was not the real danger she was in, but all of the sudden and unexpected sounds and smells. The little girl/woman remembers the growling protest of a powerful diesel engine as the trucker shoved his rig into a lower gear at highway speed to help bring it to a stop, the blasting sound of the air brakes, the violent shuddering dance of a trailer with its brakes locked up and wheels sliding on the pavement, the smell of burning rubber and diesel exhaust. She remembers other sensations that followed those: the sight of the man running toward her, the smell, warmth, and weight of the trucker’s jacket that just about swallowed her whole, being scooped up and lifted high up into the cab of his truck, the warm air from the truck’s heater blowing on her, the voice of the truck driver and the crackling, staticky sound of other voices in conversation with him on the CB, the state trooper at the truck driver’s window, the agitated and upset truck driver telling the trooper that he stopped because he “knowed something wad’n right.”

At least the DFCS lady looked familiar to the little girl. The little girl had seen her somewhere before. The DFCS lady didn’t have to ask the little girl what her name was. There was no mistaking the dark, almost black straight hair, the dark brown eyes, and the olive complexion of this half-Cherokee child. She called the little girl by her name, Linda. The DFCS lady had removed this child once before back when she was working in another county about three years earlier. The little girl had gone back home after about a year in care. The DFCS lady had often wondered what happened to that little girl, and now here she was talking to her again. The little girl showed the DFCS lady which house she lived in, where the DFCS lady found two year old Melissa and eleven month old Tammy, both born since the previous time that Linda was in care.

Photo from the day Lamar and his wife met the girls: Tammy (3), Linda (6), Melissa (4)

On July 14, 1980, that little girl walking alongside US 44 and her younger sisters became our daughters through adoption. Stories can help you understand a lot of things, such as why the six year old girl you adopted liked to wear that grungy old sweat-stained Cat Diesel Power cap that was way too big for her.

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Do you have a positive adoption story of your own to share? If so, contact me!